


you were never mine to keep

by Arrowsbane



Series: these aren't scars, these are stories [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Four Seasons, Heartbreak, Love, Moving On, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:25:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrowsbane/pseuds/Arrowsbane
Summary: There is a girl, who loves fearlessly, even when she has no hope.There is a boy, distracted by society and lost in his own world.And he was never mine to keep.





	

There is a girl, who loves fearlessly, even when she has no hope.

There is a boy, distracted by society and lost in his own world.

…

This is how it starts. As friends.

Friendship is everything. It’s making a second cup of tea on your break, and a shoulder to lean on. It’s a three am phone call, that really needs no apologies because your voice is wracked with sobs. It’s a hand to hold, and soft words in your ears when reality is hard to cling too. It’s a promise, _I love you_.

Love is not always romantic. It is a sea.

There are currents and eddies, there are riptides and crushing waves. There is a tsunami that sweeps away all in its path. There is the foam floating on gentle rushes of water that lap up the sand.

There are a thousand different facets of love, just as there are so many drops of water in the ocean.

…

Spring is the beginning.

Shyness and unsteady feet, like a child dipping a toe into the water.

Like tiny snowdrops peeking through the cold earth.

The glint of sunlight upon frosted stems, and the coolness in the air – crisp and clean.

Nervousness, and suppressing the urge to text every five minutes because overwhelming my new friend isn’t ‘cool’. Giddiness about meeting up, and being ready to leave two hours before my deadline.

It’s dewdrops on a spider’s web that glistens in the cool quiet of the afternoon, and the blue haze of evening as the sun sets before six o clock.

A fresh slate, with so much to look forwards to.

…

Excitement suffuses every part of my soul.

I light up when you are in the room.

Can you tell?

I think everybody but you can see how ridiculous I am.

It’s like an itch under my skin, it’s like sugar in my coffee and the tang of jelly beans upon my tongue – I really shouldn’t eat so many, but like you, they are addictive.

…

Summer is bright. It is warm.

It’s soft breezes in the evening light. It’s the sunset reflected across the lake. It’s the crackle of a campfire, and the scent of roasted marshmallow on the breeze. It’s grass stains on your jeans, and pollen up my nose, making me sneeze.

Summer is when friendship is easy. There are so many hours in the day.

…

You walked into my life,

and I could not help but be drawn to you – like a moth to a flame.

And like a moth, I barely noticed as my wings began to shrivel and burn.

It’s funny, how sometimes we forget the pain we are in, if only to draw out an imagined pleasure.

Summer’s warmth masked the radiating heat working itself even closer to my heart, and I was blinded by the sheer light that I thought was summoned by your presence.

What a fool I must have been,

and what a fool I still am.

To be so easily ensnared when you had no cruel intentions.

Because there was no cruelty in your eyes.

Perhaps that is why.

…

Autumn is when the whole world sets itself aflame.

The curling leaves stain golden-amber, and crimson; scarlet and orange.

The trees shed their load, and like the trees, I think that you begin to unburden yourself.

I am but a leaf, my ties to your tree are wearing thing; and the north wind is blustering, buffering against me. I am but a leaf, and I am drifting free upon the wind. I dance across fields and roads, and flee up into the sky, past the skyline.

I am alone, and you are held down by your deep roots.

Did you know I am afraid of heights?

And yet, I think, if you would fly with me, then I would be fearless.

…

But this is how things will happen.

I will shoulder the burden and take the blame. I will break my own heart first.

Because then you can’t break it for me.

You did not ask me to love you this way.

And I did not give you permission to take my heart from me.

I gave it freely.

…

But then winter comes, and with it, the frozen chill.

The snow falls and the lakes freeze solid. The clouds cover the sun, and hot cocoa can only do so much to stave off the bitter cold that clings to a persons’ bones.

Distance forms, like frost on window panes, little tiny slivers of doubt creep in.

A relationship, a friendship, a bond of any kind needs just as much tender care as a fire or a plant. The night shift is long, and it is lonely when you are alone.

Everybody needs to sleep at some point.

…

This is not goodbye.

It’s not ‘I’m giving up on you’, or me walking away.

It’s not an ending, but it is _how_ it ends: the same way it began. With friendship.

This is me accepting the cold and simple truth –

that you were never mine to keep, and that I was not a fool for loving you.

But look – the sky is clear, and the sun has not fallen from its orbit.

But look – the mountains have not crumbled, and the waves are still in the sea.

But look – my heart will heal, and now I am free.

…

She was a girl, stubborn and loyal; who loved fearlessly, even when her heart is broken.

He was a boy, foolish and headstrong; who never knew just how much he was loved.


End file.
